No wind of mine shall ever blow you back.
Nor guess another's gift outruns my best.
I am your dream, Sweet: so no more of dreaming,
I set my love a seal upon your arm.
Your lips to mine must end this chanted charm,
Here and now, by the angel-orders nine,
I set it as a seal upon your breast;
Your thoughts to travel after in my track,
That you may never hear another's charm.
I bid your wandering footsteps me to follow,
My heart were all as well set on the wind,
I set a charm upon you, foot and hand,
I set my charm upon your kindly arm,
Not even though you cease to love me, Sweet.
Nor any rune that wind or water knows,
Woman most dear, I choose you out for mine,
Your heart to mine, 'neath nut-brown tresses streaming,
That you may never chance to understand
I am the sky that waits you, dear grey swallow,
That you and Knowledge, love, may never meet,
That take no care for love nor yet for loss,
I set a charm upon your hurrying breath,
How strong you are, how weak your lover, Sweet.
Or bound, to live or die, upon a rose.
You shall not leave me — not for life, nor death,
I turn my errant feet your way across.
I set a charm upon your wandering feet,
A woman's love nine Angels cannot bind,